Lost and Found
by LostandAlone22
Summary: Written in response to PL Wynter's latest challenge, this is what happened to Missy Bender at the end of the episode.


This story is in response to a PL Wynter challenge to write a story about a non-main character. At first, I didn't like Missy Bender, but the more I think about it, the more I think she'sa victim of her upbringing. I know, not a popular opinion after the whole poking Dean with the fire poker, but here it is. Hope you enjoy the story.

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Little Missy Bender sat in the hard, plastic chair at the police station, waiting to see what was to be done about her. It had been a long seven years since the man she now knew as a father had taken her from the playground when she was in kindergarten. She knew that what she had done while she was with them was bad, remembered from the Sunday school classes that her parents had made her go to. For what she had done to that man today alone, she knew she was going to jail.

There was very little she remembered from her life before. She didn't remember her parent's faces, her real name, or even her proper birthday. All she had was the vague recollection of her mother's perfume, a hymn that she couldn't quite remember that had to have been her lullaby, the playground and her classroom in school, and a man that she would come to know as her father telling her that he didn't care what her name was, it was Missy now. In the back of her mind, she remembered that they had taken her because they wanted a little girl and she was sitting alone.

She shivered now, cold, and looked at the woman who had not that long ago been in a cage in the man's barn. The woman was eyeing her like a hawk, waiting for her to make her move, but she didn't have the energy. Her whole world had fallen apart for the second time in her life, and she knew that bad things were to come. Despite her yelling at the men that her name was Missy Bender, one of them had gone to run her picture through the missing children's database. Good luck. No one had ever gone looking for her. That woman was staring at her and it was starting to make her anxious. "Can I get something to drink?"

"No, you just sit there." The woman told her. She was the one that had killed the man Missy had come to know as her father.

The man who had gone to check the database came back, looking urgent, and she wondered if things were worse than she thought. Maybe the people, her parents were dead, and there would be no where for her to go but a jail cell.

The man pulled the woman away from where Missy sat, so that they could talk privately. "Kathleen, we found out who she is: Karen McDewey. Her parents reported her missing in October 1998. She's been gone a long time." His voice was frantic. He kept eyeing Missy in a weird way, but they were too far away for her to hear what they were saying. She felt panicked all of a sudden, unsure of what was going to happen.

"Were you able to contact them at all?" The woman looked over at her again, and she felt frustrated. If they were talking about her, they should at least stand close enough for her to hear.

"We got in contact with the mother on the first try. She told us that she has to call the girl's father, but then she's on her way. They live in Little Swan, so they should be here soon." He told her, continuing to look over to the little girl sitting in front of Kathleen's desk. "Those men had her for seven years."

"God," Kathleen hissed, and then whipped around to look at the little girl. "What she must have been through, with those people."

Missy was getting frightened. They kept on looking at her, and she wished they would just tell her what was happening, what was going on. She already knew that she was in trouble, so why were they dragging it out. "Can I have something to drink?" She yelled at them, hoping that they would bring the conversation closer to her.

The woman walked over to the water tank and poured her a cup, and Missy knew something was wrong. She took the water as it was handed to her, but looked at it with great caution. The woman sat down in front of her, and the man walked around to a seat next to her and leaned toward her. Suddenly, she felt like a caged animal, all of the years with her new family taking their toll on her. People were not good. If you didn't kill them, they would just kill you.

"Missy, we found out who you are. Your name is Karen McDewey, and you're from just downstate a little in Little Swan. Your parents are on their way to come and get you." The man told her. She sat back, looking at him like he had two heads. Her parents were on their way! She didn't know those people, and she was just going to have to go with them? Fear filled her mind, and she struggled to keep the composure that she had been raised to hold. She said nothing, just sat and looked at her hands. They were talking to her, but she had spaced them out, choosing to ignore everything they said. After a while, they got the hint and left. She now waited, worrying.

A couple in their thirties came through the door of the police station, and Missy turned around. She froze for a moment, a strange sense of knowing these people paralyzing her. She was sure even before they went to talk to the cops who had been sitting with her, that these were her parents. As they walked over to the cops, her eyes never left her. Bedtime stories and a night light, a teddy bear named Sam and a blankie that she couldn't sleep without, the park, ice cream, helping her mommy in the kitchen, and her daddy making her be an airplane. Everything came flooding back when she saw them. When they walked toward her, she got up from the seat she had been in and cautiously approached them. "Hi, Karen. Do you remember us?" The man asked, the woman too choked up to speak. She nodded and then ran into his open arms. As a family, they left the station, hoping to put things behind them.

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Hope you liked the story. I know the end part is unrealistic, but I was looking for a happy ending. I am still working on my other two mult-chapter stories, and a new chapter of each should be up soon. Please feel free to comment in any way that you would like, whether it be praise, constructive criticism, question, or your own analysis of Missy.

Happy hunting.


End file.
